American Big Game in Its Haunts: The Book of the Boone and Crockett Club

The book of Hunting

American Big Game in Its Haunts by Various (World Cultural Heritage Library)

No other cat has so extensive a range as _Felis concolor_ and itsclose allies, variously known as puma, cougar and mountain lion, whichextends from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from latitude fifty-fiveor sixty north, to the extreme southern end of the continent. As far asis known, it is a recent development, for no very similar remains appearprevious to post-tertiary deposits.

Bears of the genus _Ursus_ are of no great antiquity in ageological sense, for we have no knowledge of them earlier than thePliocene of Europe, and even later in America, but fossils becominggradually less bear-like and approximating toward the early type fromwhich dogs also probably sprung, go back to the early Tertiarycreodonts.

Cats, as we have seen, are chiefly tropical, while bears, with twoexceptions, are northern, one species inhabiting the Chilian Andes,while the brown bear of Europe extends into North Africa as far as theAtlas Mountains.

The family _Procyonidae_ contains the existing species which appearto be nearest of kin to bears. These are all small and consist of thewell-known raccoon, the coatis, the ring-tailed bassaris and thekinkajou, all differing from bears in varying details of tooth and otherstructures. The curious little panda (_Aelurus fulgens_) from theHimalayas, is very suggestive of raccoons, and as forms belonging tothis genus inhabited England in Pliocene times, it is possible that wehave pointed out to us here the origin of this, at present, strictlyAmerican family; but, on the other hand, evidence is not wanting thatthey have always been native to the soil and came from a dog-like stock.

As we have already seen, bears have the same dental formula as dogs, butas they are less carnivorous, their grinders have flatter surfaces andthe sectorials are less sharp; in fact they have very little of the truesectorial character. It is unusual to find a full set of teeth in adultbears, as some of the premolars invariably drop out.

It is fully as true of bears as of any other group of large mammals,that our views as to specific distinction are based upon data at presentutterly inadequate, for all the zoological museums of the world do notcontain sufficient material for exhaustive study and comparison. Thepresent writer has examined many of these collections and has nohesitation in admitting that his ideas upon the subject are much lessdefinite than they were ten years ago. It does appear, though, that inNorth America four quite distinct types can be made out. First of theseis the circumpolar species, _Ursus maritimus_, the white or polarbear, which most of us grew up to regard as the very incarnation oftenacious ferocity, but which, as it appears from the recitals oflate Arctic explorers, dies easily to a single shot, and does notseem to afford much better sport than so much rabbit shooting.The others are the great Kadiak bear (_U. middendorfi_); thegrizzly (_U. horribilis_), and the black or true American bear(_U. americanus_). The extent to which the last three maybe subdivided remains uncertain, but the barren-ground bear(_U. richardsoni_) is surely a valid species of the grizzly type.The grizzlies and the big Alaska bears approach more nearly than_americanus_ to the widespread brown bear (_U. arctos_) ofEurope and Asia, and the hypothesis is reasonable that they originatedfrom that form or its immediate ancestors, in which case we have theinteresting series of parallel modifications exhibited in the twocontinents, for the large bear of Kamtschatka approaches very nearly tothose of Alaska, while further to the south in America, where theconditions of life more nearly resemble those surrounding _arctos_,these bears have in the grizzlies retained more of their original form.Whether or not the large Pleistocene cave bear (_U. spelaeus_) was alineal ancestor is questionable, for in its later period, at least, it wascontemporary with the existing European species. The black bear, with itslitter-brother of brown color, seems to be a genuine product of the newworld.

Many differential characters have been pointed out in the skulls and teethof bears, and to a less extent, in the claws; but while these undoubtedlyexist, the conclusions to be drawn from them are uncertain, for theskulls of bears change greatly with age, and the constancy of thesevariations, with the values which they should hold in classification,we do not yet know.

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It is not improbable that the reader may leave this brief survey withthe feeling that its admissions of ignorance exceed its affirmations ofcertainty, and such is indeed the case, for the law of scientificvalidity forbids the statement as fact, of that concerning which theleast element of doubt remains. But the real advance of zoologicalknowledge must not thereby be discredited, for it is due to those whohave contributed to it to remember that little more than a generationago these problems of life seemed wrapped in hopeless obscurity, and themethods of investigation which have led to practically all our presentgains, were then but new born, and with every passing year doubts aredispelled, and theories turned into truths. There was no break inphysical evolution when mental processes began, nor will there be in theevolution of knowledge as long as they continue to exist.

_Arthur Erwin Brown_.

[Illustration: TROPHIES FROM ALASKA.]

Big Game Shooting in Alaska

I.

BEAR HUNTING ON KADIAK ISLAND

Early in April, 1900, I made my first journey to Alaska for the purposeof searching out for myself the best big-game shooting grounds whichwere to be found in that territory. Few people who have not traveled inthat country have any idea of its vastness. Away from the beaten paths,much of its 700,000 square miles is practically unknown, except to thewandering prospector and the Indian hunter. Therefore, since I couldobtain but little definite information as to just where to go for thebest shooting, I determined to make the primary object of my journey tolocate the big-game districts of southern and western Alaska.

My first two months were spent in the country adjacent to FortWrangell. Here one may expect to find black bear, brown bear, goats, andon almost all of the islands along the coast great numbers of the smallSitka deer, while grizzlies may these are the black, the grizzly, andthe glacier or blue bear.[3] It is claimed that this last species hasnever fallen to a white man's rifle. It is found on the glaciers fromthe Lynn Canal to the northern range of the St. Elias Alps, and, as itsname implies, is of a bluish color. I should judge from the skins I haveseen that in size it is rather smaller than the black bear. What itlives upon in its range of eternal ice and snow is entirely a subject ofsurmise.

[Footnote 3: The Polar bear is only found on the coast, and never below61 deg.. It is only found at this latitude when carried down on the ice inBering Sea.]

[Illustration: THE HUNTER AND HIS GAME.]

Of all the varieties of brown bears, the one which has probablyattracted most attention is the large bear of the Kadiak Islands. Beforestarting upon my journey I had communicated with Dr. Merriam, Chief ofthe Biological Survey, at Washington, and had learned from him all thathe could tell me of this great bear. Mr. Harriman, while on hisexpedition to the Alaskan coast in 1899, had by great luck shot aspecimen, and in the second volume of "Big Game Shooting" in "TheBadminton Library," Mr. Clive Phillipps-Wolley writes of the largest"grizzly" of which he has any trustworthy information as being shot onKadiak island by a Mr. J.C. Tolman. These were the only authenticrecords I could find of bears of this species which had fallen to therifle of an amateur sportsman.

After spending two months in southern Alaska, I determined to visit theKadiak Islands in pursuit of this bear. I reached my destination thelatter part of June, and three days later had started on my shootingexpedition with native hunters. Unfortunately I had come too late in theseason. The grass had shot up until it was shoulder high, making it mostdifficult to see at any distance the game I was after.

The result of this, my first hunt, was that I actually saw but threebear, and got but one shot, which, I am ashamed to record, was a miss.Tracks there were in plenty along the salmon streams, and some of thesewere so large I concluded that as a sporting trophy a good example ofthe Kadiak bear should equal, if not surpass, in value any other kind ofbig game to be found on the North American continent. This opinionreceived confirmation later when I saw the size of the skins brought inby the natives to the two trading companies.

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As I sailed away from Kadiak that fall morning I determined that my huntwas not really over, but only interrupted by the long northern winter,and that the next spring would find me once more in pursuit of thisgreat bear.

It was not only with the hope of shooting a Kadiak bear that I decidedto make this second expedition, but I had become greatly interested inthe big brute, and although no naturalist myself, it was now to be myaim to bring back to the scientists at Washington as much definitematerial about him as possible. Therefore the objects of my second tripwere:

Firstly, to obtain a specimen of bear from the Island of Kadiak;secondly, to obtain specimens of the bears found on the AlaskaPeninsula; and, lastly, to obtain, if possible, a specimen of bear fromone of the other islands of the Kadiak group. With such material Ihoped that it could at least be decided definitely if all the bears ofthe Kadiak Islands are of one species; if all the bears on the AlaskaPeninsula are of one species; and also if the Kadiak bear is found onthe mainland, for there are unquestionably many points of similaritybetween the bears of the Kadiak Islands and those of the AlaskaPeninsula. It was also my plan, if I was successful in all theseobjects, to spend the fall on the Kenai Peninsula in pursuit of thewhite sheep and the moose.

Generally I have made it a point to go alone on all big-game shootingtrips, but on this journey I was fortunate in having as companion an oldcollege friend, Robert P. Blake.

My experience of the year before was of value in getting our outfittogether. At almost all points in Alaska most of the necessaryprovisions can be bought, but I should rather advise one to take all butthe commonest necessities with him, for frequently the stocks at thevarious trading posts run low. For this reason we took with us fromSeattle sufficient provisions to last us six months, and from time totime, as necessity demanded, added to our stores. As the rain fallsalmost daily in much of the coast country, we made it a point to supplyourselves liberally with rubber boots and rain-proof clothing.

On the 6th of March, 1901, we sailed from Seattle on one of the monthlysteamers, and arrived at Kadiak eleven days later. I shall not attemptto describe this beautiful island, but shall merely say that Kadiak isjustly termed the "garden spot of Alaska." It has numerous deep bayswhich cut into the land many miles. These bays in turn have arms whichbranch out in all directions, and the country adjacent to these latteris the natives' favorite hunting ground for bear.

In skin canoes (baidarkas) the Aleuts, paddling along the shore, keep asharp lookout on the nearby hillsides, where the bears feed upon theyoung and tender grass. It was our plan to choose the most likely one ofthese big bays as our shooting grounds, and hunt from a baidarka,according to local custom.

It may be well to explain here that the different localities of Alaskaare distinctly marked by the difference in the canoes which the nativesuse. In the southern part, where large trees are readily obtained, youfind large dugouts capable of holding from five to twenty persons. AtYakutat, where the timber is much smaller, the canoes, although stilldugouts, have decreased proportionately in size, but from Yakutatwestward the timber line becomes lower and lower, until the western halfof the island of Kadiak is reached, where the trees disappearaltogether, and the dugout gives place to the skin canoe or baidarka. Ihave never seen them east of Prince William Sound, but from this pointon to the west they are in universal use among the Aleuts--a mostinteresting race of people, and a most wonderful boat.

The natives of Kadiak are locally called Aleuts, but the true Aleuts arenot found east of the Aleutian Islands. The cross between the Aleut andwhite--principally Russian--is known as the "Creole."

The natives whom I met on the Kadiak Islands seemed to show traces ofJapanese descent, for they resembled these people both in size andfeatures. I found them of docile disposition, remarkable hunters andweather prophets, and most expert in handling their wonderful canoes,with which I always associate them.

The baidarka is made with a light frame of some strong elastic wood,covered with seal or sea lion skin; not a nail is used in making theframe, but all the various parts are tied firmly together with sinew orstout twine. This allows a slight give, for the baidarka is expected toyield to every wave, and in this lies its strength. There may be one,two, or three round hatches, according to the size of the boat. In thesethe occupants kneel, and, sitting on their heels, ply theirsharp-pointed paddles; all paddling at the same time on the same side,and then all changing in unison to the other side at the will of thebowman, who sets a rapid stroke. In rough water, kamlaykas--large shirtsmade principally of stretched and dried bear gut--are worn, and theseare securely fastened around the hatches. In this way the Aleuts and theinterior of the baidarka remain perfectly dry, no matter how much thesea breaks and passes over the skin deck.

I had used the baidarka the year before, having made a trip with myhunters almost around the island of Afognak, and believed it to be anideal boat to hunt from. It is very speedy, easily paddled, floats lowin the water, will hold much camp gear, and, when well handled, is mostseaworthy. So it was my purpose this year to again use one in skirtingthe shores of the deep bays, and in looking for bears, which showthemselves in the early spring upon the mountain sides, or roam thebeach in search of kelp.

The Kadiak bear finds no trouble in getting all the food he wants duringthe berry season and during the run of the various kinds of salmon,which lasts from June until October. At this period he fattens up, andupon this fat he lives through his long winter sleep. When he wakes inthe spring he is weak and hardly able to move, so his first aim is torecover the use of his legs. This he does by taking short walks when theweather is pleasant, returning to his den every night. This lightexercise lasts for a week or so, when he sets out to feed upon the beachkelp, which acts as a purge. He now lives upon roots, principally of thesalmon-berry bush, and later nibbles the young grass.

These carry him along until the salmon arrive, when he becomesexclusively a fish eater until the berries are ripe. I have been told bythe natives that just before he goes into his den he eats berries only,and his stomach is now so filled with fat that he really eats butlittle.

The time when the bears go into their winter quarters depends upon theseverity of the season. Generally it is in early November, shortlyafter the cold weather has set in. Most bears sleep uninterruptedlyuntil spring, but they are occasionally found wandering about inmid-winter. My natives seemed to think that only those bears arerestless which have found uncomfortable quarters, and that they leavetheir dens at this time of year solely for the purpose of finding betterones. They generally choose for their dens caves high up on the mountainsides among the rocks and in remote places where they are not likely tobe discovered. The same winter quarters are believed to be used yearafter year.

The male, or bull bear, is the first to come out in the spring. As soonas he recovers the use of his muscles he leaves his den for good andwanders aimlessly about until he comes upon the track of some female. Henow persistently follows her, and it is at this time that the ruttingseason of the Kadiak bear begins, the period lasting generally from themiddle of April until July.

In Eagle Harbor, on Kadiak Island, a native, three years ago, during themonth of January, saw a female bear which he killed near her den. Hethen went into the cave and found two very small cubs whose eyes werenot yet open. This would lead to the belief that this species of bearbrings forth its young about the beginning of the new year. At birth thecubs are very small, weighing but little more than a pound and a half,and there are from one to four in a litter. Two, however, is the usualnumber. The mother, although in a state of semi-torpor, suckles thesecubs in the den, and they remain with her all that year, hole up withher the following winter, and continue to follow her until the secondfall, when they leave her and shift for themselves.

For many years these bears have been so persistently hunted by thenatives, who are constantly patrolling the shores in their skin canoes,that their knowledge of man and their senses of smell and hearing aredeveloped to an extreme degree. They have, however, like most bears,but indifferent sight. They range in color from a light tawny lion to avery dark brown; in fact, I have seen some bears that were almostblack. Many people have asked me about their size, and how they comparein this respect with other bears. The Kadiak bear is naturally extremelylarge. His head is very massive, and he stands high at the shoulders.This latter characteristic is emphasized by a thick tuft of hair whichstands erect on the dorsal ridge just over the shoulders. The largestbear of this kind which I shot measured 8 feet in a straight line fromhis nose to the end of the vertebrae, and stood 51-1/2 inches in astraight line at the shoulders, not including between 6 and 7 inches ofhair.

Most people have an exaggerated idea of the number of bears on theKadiak Islands. Personally I believe that they are too few ever to makeshooting them popular. In fact, it was only by the hardest kind ofcareful and constant work that I was finally successful in bagging myfirst bear on Kadiak. When the salmon come it is not so difficult to geta shot, but this lying in wait at night by a salmon stream cannotcompare with seeking out the game on the hills in the spring, andstalking it in a sportsmanlike manner.

It was more than a week after our landing at Kadiak before the weatherpermitted me to go to Afognak, where my old hunters lived, to make ourfinal preparations. One winter storm after another came in quicksuccession, but we did not mind the delay, for we had come early and didnot expect the bears would leave their dens before April.

I decided to take with me on my hunt the same two natives whom I had hadthe year before. My head man's name was Fedor Deerinhoff. He was aboutforty years of age, and had been a noted sea otter and bear hunter. Insize he was rather larger than the average of his race, and absolutelyfearless. Many stories are told of his hand-to-hand encounters withthese big bears. I think the best one is of a time when he crawled intoa den on his hands and knees, and in the dark, and at close quarters,shot three. He was unable to see, and the bears' heavy breathing was hisonly guide in taking aim.

Nikolai Pycoon, my other native, was younger and shorter in stature, andhad also a great reputation as a hunter, which later I found was fullyjustified, and furthermore was considered the best baidarka man ofAfognak. He was a nice little fellow, always good natured, always keen,always willing, and the only native whom I have ever met with a truesense of gratitude.

The year before I had made all arrangements to hire for this season asmall schooner, which was to take us to our various shooting grounds. Iwas now much disappointed to find that the owner of this schooner haddecided not to charter her. We were, therefore, obliged to engage a veryindifferent sloop, but she was fortunately an excellent sea boat. Herowner, Charles Payjaman, a Russian, went with us as my friend'shunter. He was a fisherman and a trapper by profession, and had thereputation of knowing these dangerous island waters well. His knowledgeof Russian we expected to be of great use to us in dealing with thenatives; Alaska was under Russian control for so many years that thatlanguage is the natural local tongue.

It was the first of April before we got our entire outfit together, andit was not until four days later that the weather permitted us to hoistour sail and start for the shooting grounds, of which it was of theutmost importance that we should make good choice. All the nativesseemed to agree that Kiliuda Bay, some seventy-five miles below the townof Kadiak, was the most likely place to find bear, and so we now headedour boat in that direction. It was a most beautiful day for a start,with the first faint traces of spring in the air. As we skirted theshore that afternoon I sighted, through the glasses, on some low hillsin the distance, bear tracks in the snow. My Aleuts seemed to think thatthe bears were probably near, having come down to the shore in search ofkelp. It promised a pretty fair chance for a shot, but there wasexceedingly bad water about, and no harbor for the sloop to lie, soPayjaman and my natives advised me not to make the attempt. As oneshould take no chances with Alaskan waters, I felt that this was wise,and we reluctantly passed on.

The next forenoon we put into a large bay, Eagle Harbor, to pick up alocal hunter who was to accompany us to Kiliuda Bay, for both my Aleutsand the Russian were unacquainted with this locality. IgnatiChowischpack, the native whose services we secured, was quite acharacter, a man of much importance among the Aleuts of this district,and one who had a thorough knowledge of the country chosen as a huntingground.

We expected to remain at Eagle Harbor only part of the day, butunfortunately were storm-bound here for a week. Several times weattempted to leave, but each time had to put back, fearing that theheavy seas we encountered outside would crush in the baidarka, which wascarried lashed to the sloop's deck. It was not until early on themorning of April 12, just as the sun was topping the mountains, that wefinally reached Kiliuda Bay.

Our hunting grounds now stretched before us as far as the eye couldsee. We had by this time passed the tree area, and it was only here andthere in isolated spots that stunted cottonwoods bordered the salmonstreams and scattered patches of alders dotted the mountain sides. Inmany places the land rolled gradually back from the shore until themountain bases were reached, while in other parts giant cliffs rosedirectly from the water's edge, but with the glasses one could generallycommand a grand view of this great irregular bay, with its long armscutting into the island in all directions.

We made our permanent camp in a large barabara, a form of house so oftenseen in western Alaska that it deserves a brief description. It is asmall, dome-shaped hut, with a frame generally made of driftwood, andthatched with sods and the rank grass of the country. It has no windows,but a large hole in the roof permits light to enter and serves also asan outlet for the smoke from the fire, which is built on a rough hearthin the middle of the barabara. These huts, their doors never locked,offer shelter to anyone, and are frequently found in the most remoteplaces. The one which we now occupied was quite large, with ample spaceto stow away our various belongings, and we made ourselves mostcomfortable, while our Aleuts occupied the small banya, or Russianbathhouse, which is also generally found by the side of thebarabara. This was to be the base of supplies from which my friend and Iwere to hunt in different directions.

The morning after reaching our shooting grounds I started with one of mynatives and the local hunter in the baidarka to get the lay of theland. Blake and I agreed that it was wise to divide up the country, bothbecause we could thus cover a much greater territory, and our modes ofhunting differed materially. Although at the time I believed from what Ihad heard that Payjaman was an excellent man, I preferred to hunt in amore careful manner, as is the native custom, in which I had had someexperience the year before. I firmly believe that had Payjaman huntedas carefully as my Aleuts did, my friend would have been moresuccessful.

We spent our first day skirting the shores of the entire bay, paddlingup to its very head. Ignati pointed out to Fedor all the most likelyplaces, and explained the local eccentricities of the various winds--aknowledge of these being of the first importance in bear hunting. I wasmuch pleased with the looks of the country, but at the same time wasdisappointed to find that in the inner bays there was no trace ofspring, and that the snow lay deep even on the shores down to the highwater mark. Not a bear's track was to be seen, and it was evident thatwe were on the grounds ahead of time.

We stopped for tea and lunch about noon at the head of the bay. Near bya long and narrow arm of water extended inland some three miles, and itwas the country lying adjacent to this and to the head of the bay that Idecided to choose as my hunting grounds.

We had a hard time to reach camp that night, for a severe storm suddenlyburst upon us, and a fierce wind soon swept down from the hills, kickingup a heavy sea which continually swept over the baidarka's deck, andwithout kamlaykas on we surely should have swamped. It grew bitterlycold, and a blinding snow storm made it impossible to see any distanceahead, but Ignati knew these waters well, and safely, but half frozen,we reached the main camp just at dark.

Next day the storm continued, and it was impossible to venture out. Myfriend and I passed the time playing piquet, and listening to ournatives, who talked earnestly together, going over many of their strangeand thrilling hunting experiences. We understood but little Russian andAleut, yet their expressive gestures made it quite possible to catch thedrift of what was being said. It seemed that Ignati had had a brotherkilled a few years ago, while bear hunting in the small bay which liesbetween Eagle Harbor and Kiliuda Bay. The man came upon a bear, whichhe shot and badly wounded. Accompanied by a friend he followed up theblood trail, which led into a thick patch of alders. Suddenly he cameupon a large unwounded male bear which charged him unprovoked, and atsuch close quarters that he was unable to defend himself. Before hiscompanion, who was but a short distance away, could reach him, he waskilled. The bear frightfully mangled the body, holding it down with hisfeet and using his teeth to tear it apart.

Ignati at once started out to avenge his brother, and killed in quicksuccession six bears, allowing their bodies to remain as a warning tothe other bears, not even removing their skins.

During the past few years three men while hunting have been killed bybears in the same vicinity as Ignati's brother, two instantly, and oneliving but a short time. I think it is from these accidents that thenatives in this region have a superstitious dread of a "long-tailedbear" which they declare roams the hills between Eagle Harbor andKiliuda Bay.

The storm which began on the 13th continued until the 17th, and this wasbut one of a series. Winter seemed to come back in all its fury, and Ibelieve that whatever bears had left their winter dens went back to themfor another sleep. It was not until the middle of May that the snowbegan to disappear, and spring with its green grass came.

All this time I was camped with my natives at the head of the bay, somefifteen miles from our base of supplies. On the 23d of April we firstsighted tracks, but it was not until May 15 that I finally succeeded inbagging my first bear.

The tracks in the snow indicated that the bears began again to come outof their winter dens the last week in April; and should one wish to makea spring hunt on the Kadiak Islands, the first of May would, I shouldjudge, be a good time to arrive at the shooting grounds.

When the wind was favorable, our mode of hunting was to leave campbefore daylight, and paddle in our baidarka up to the head of one ofthese long bays, and, leaving our canoe here, trudge over the snow tosome commanding elevation, where we constantly used the glasses upon thesurrounding hillsides, hoping to see bear. We generally returned to campa little before noon, but in the afternoon returned to the lookout,where we remained until it was too dark to see.

When the wind was blowing into these valleys we did not hunt, for wefeared that whatever bears might be around would get our scent andquickly leave. New bears might come, but none which had once scented uswould remain. For days at a time we were storm-bound, and unable tohunt, or even leave our little tent, where frequently we were obliged toremain under blankets both day and night to keep warm.

On May 15, by 4 o'clock, I had finished a hurried breakfast, and with mytwo Aleuts had left in the baidarka for our daily watching place. Thiswas a large mound lying in the center of a valley, some three miles fromwhere we were camped. On the right of the mound rose a gently slopinghill with its sides sparsely covered with alders, and at right anglesand before it, extended a rugged mountain ridge with rocky sidesstretching all across our front, while to the left rose another toweringmountain ridge with steep and broken sides. All the surrounding hillsand much of the low country were covered with deep snow. The mountainson three sides completely hemmed in the valley, and their snowy slopesgave us an excellent chance to distinguish all tracks. Such were thegrounds which I had been watching for over a month whenever the wind wasfavorable.

The sun was just topping the long hill to our right as we reached ourelevated watching place. The glasses were at once in use, and soon anexclamation from one of my natives told me that new tracks wereseen. There they were--two long unbroken lines leading down from themountain on our right, across the valley, and up and out of sight overthe ridge to our left. It seemed as if two bears had simply wanderedacross our front, and crossed over the range of mountains into the baybeyond.

As soon as my hunters saw these tracks they turned to me, and, withevery confidence, said: "I guess catch." Now, it must be remembered thatthese tracks led completely over the mountains to our left, and it wasthe most beautiful bit of hunting on the part of my natives to know thatthese bears would turn and swing back into the valley ahead. To followthe tracks, which were well up in the heart of our shooting grounds,would give our wind to all the bears that might be lurking there, andthis my hunters knew perfectly well, yet they never hesitated for onemoment, but started ahead with every confidence.

We threaded our way through a mass of thick alders to the head of thevalley, and then climbing a steep mountain took our stand on a rockyridge which commanded a wide view ahead and to our left in the directionin which the tracks led. We had only been in our new position half anhour when Nikolai, my head hunter, gripped my arm and pointed high up onthe mountain in the direction in which we had been watching. There Imade out a small black speck, which to the naked eye appeared but a bitof dark rock protruding through the snow. Taking the glasses I made outa large bear slowly floundering ahead, and evidently comingdownward. His coat seemed very dark against the white background, and hewas unquestionably a bull of great size. Shortly after I had thesatisfaction of seeing a second bear, which the first was evidentlyfollowing. This was, without doubt, a female, by no means so large asthe first, and much lighter in color. The smaller bear was apparentlyhungry, and it was interesting to watch her dig through the snow insearch of food. Soon she headed down the mountain side, payingabsolutely no attention to the big male, which slowly followed somedistance in the rear. Shortly she reached a rocky cliff which it seemedimpossible that such a clumsy animal could descend, and I almostdespaired of her making the attempt, but without a pause she wound inand out, seemingly traversing the steepest and most difficult places inthe easiest manner, and headed for the valley below. When the bullreached this cliff we lost sight of him; nor could we locate him againwith even the most careful use of the glasses. He had evidently chosenthis secure retreat to lie up in for the rest of the day. If I couldhave killed the female without alarming him, and then waited on hertrail, I should undoubtedly have got another shot, as he followed herafter his rest.

It was 8 o'clock when we first located the bears, and for nearly threehours I had a chance to watch one or both of them through powerfulglasses. The sun had come up clear and strong, melting the crust uponthe snow, so that as soon as the female bear reached the steep mountainside her downward path was not an easy one. At each step she would sinkup to her belly, and at times would slip and fall, turning somersaultafter somersault; now and again she would be buried in the snow so deepthat it seemed impossible for her to go either ahead or backward. Thenshe would roll over on her back, and, loosening her hold on the steephillside, would come tumbling and slipping down, turning over and over,sideways and endways, until she caught herself by spreading out all fourlegs. In this way she came with each step and turn nearer andnearer. Finally she reached an open patch on the hillside, where shebegan to feed, digging up the roots of the salmon-berry bushes at theedge of the snow. If now I lost sight of her for a short time, it wasvery difficult to pick her up again even with the glasses, so perfectlydid the light tawny yellows and browns of her coat blend in with thedead grass of the place on which she was feeding.

The wind had been blowing in our favor all the morning, and for oncecontinued true and steady. But how closely we watched the clouds, tosee that no change in its direction threatened us.

We waited until the bear had left the snow and was quietly feedingbefore we made a move, and then we slowly worked ahead and downward,taking up a new position on a small ridge which was well to leeward, butstill on the opposite side of the valley from the bear. She seemed in anexcellent position for a stalk, and had I been alone I should have triedit. But the Aleut mode of hunting is to study the direction in whichyour game is working, and then take up a position which it willnaturally approach.

Taking our stand, we waited, watching with much interest the greatungainly creature as she kept nibbling the young grass and digging uproots. At times she would seem to be heading in our direction, and thenagain would turn and slowly feed away. Suddenly something seemed toalarm her, for she made a dash of some fifty yards down the valley, andthen, seeming to recover her composure, began to feed again, all thewhile working nearer and nearer. The bear was now well down in thebottom of the valley, which was at this point covered with alders andintersected by a small stream. There were open patches in theunderbrush, and it was my intention to shoot when she passed through oneof these, for the ground was covered with over a foot of snow, whichwould offer a very tempting background.

While all this was passing quickly through my mind, she suddenly madeanother bolt down the valley, and, when directly opposite our position,turned at right angles, crossed the brook, and came straight through thealders into the open, not eighty yards away from us. As she made herappearance I could not help being greatly impressed by the massive headand high shoulders on which stood the pronounced tuft of hair. I hadmost carefully seen to my sights long before, for I knew how much wouldprobably depend on my first shot. It surely seemed as if fortune waswith me that day, as at last I had a fair chance at the game I had comeso far to seek. Aiming with the greatest care for the lungs and heart, Islowly pressed the trigger. The bear gave a deep, angry growl, and bitfor the wound,[4] which told me my bullet was well placed; but she kepther feet and made a dash for the thicket. I was well above, and socommanded a fairly clear view as she crashed through the leaflessalders. Twice more I fired, and each time with the most careful aim. Atthe last shot she dropped with an angry moan. My hunters shook my hand,and their faces told me how glad they were at my final success after somany long weeks of persistent work. Including the time spent last yearand this year, this bear represented eighty-seven days of actualhunting.

[Footnote 4: When a bullet strikes a Kadiak bear, he will always bitefor the wound and utter a deep and angry growl; whereas of the elevenbears which my friend and I shot on the Alaska peninsula, although they,too, bit for the wound, not one uttered a sound.]

I at once started down to look at the bear, when out upon the mountainopposite the bull was seen. He had heard the shots and was now oncemore but a moving black speck on the snow, but it will always be amystery to me how he could have heard the three reports of my small-borerifle so far away and against a strong wind. My natives suggested thatthe shots must have echoed, and in this I think they were right; buteven then it shows how abnormally the sense of hearing has beendeveloped in these bears.

I was sorry to find that the small-bore rifle did not give as great ashock as I had expected, for my first two bullets had gone through thebear's lungs and heart without knocking her off her feet.

The bear was a female, as we had supposed, but judging from what mynatives said, only of medium size. She measured 6 feet 4 inches in astraight line between the nose and the end of the vertebrae, and 44-5/8inches at the shoulders. The fur was in prime condition, and of anaverage length of 4-1/2 inches, but over the shoulders the mane was twoinches longer. Unfortunately, as in many of the spring skins, there wasa large patch over the rump apparently much rubbed. The general beliefis that these worn patches are made by the bears sliding down hill ontheir haunches on the snow; but my natives have a theory that this iscaused by the bears' pelt freezing to their dens and being torn off whenthey wake from their winter's sleep.

Although this female was not large for a Kadiak bear, as was proved byone I shot later in the season, I was much pleased with my finalsuccess, and our camp that night was quite a merry one.

Shortly after killing this bear, Blake and I returned to the tradingpost at Wood Island to prepare for a new hunt, this time to the AlaskaPeninsula.

II.

BEAR HUNTING ON THE ALASKA PENINSULA

The year before I had chanced to meet an old pilot who had thereputation of knowing every nook and corner of the Alaskan coast. Hetold me several times of the great numbers of bears that he had oftenseen in a certain bay on the Alaska Peninsula, and advised me moststrongly to try this place. We now determined to visit this bay in agood sized schooner we had chartered from the North American CommercialCompany.

There were numerous delays in getting started, but finally, on May 31,we set sail, and in two days were landed at our new shootinggrounds. Rarely in modern days does it fall to the lot of amateurs tomeet with better sport than we had for the next month.

The schooner landed us with our natives, two baidarkas, and all ourprovisions, near the mouth of the harbor. Here we made our base ofsupplies, and the next morning in our two canoes started with ourhunters to explore this wonderful bay. At high tide Chinitna Bay extendsinland some fifteen miles, but at low water is one vast bog of glacialdeposit. Rugged mountains rise on all sides, and at the base of thesemountains there are long meadows which extend out to the high watermark. In these meadows during the month of June the bears come to feedupon the young and tender salt grass.

There was a long swell breaking on the beach as we left our base ofsupplies, but we passed safely through the line of breakers to thesmooth waters beyond, and now headed for the upper bay. The twobaidarkas kept side by side, and Blake and I chatted together, but allthe while kept the glasses constantly fixed upon the hillsides. We hadhardly gone a mile before a small black bear was sighted; but the windwas unfavorable, and he got our scent before we could land. This lookeddecidedly encouraging, and we continued on in the best of spirits. Aboutmid-day we went on shore, lunched, and then basked in the sun until theafternoon, when we again got into the baidarkas and paddled further upthe bay to a place where a wide meadow extends out from the base of themountains. Here Nikolai, my head hunter, went on shore with theglasses, and raising himself cautiously above the bank, took a long lookat the country beyond. It was at once quite evident that he had seensomething, and we all joined him, keeping well hidden from view. There,out upon the marsh, could be seen two large bears feeding upon the younggrass. They seemed in an almost unapproachable position, and we lay andwatched them, hoping that they would move into a more advantageousplace. After an hour or so they fed back toward the trees, and soonpassed out of sight.

We matched to see which part of the meadow each should watch, and itfell to my lot to go further up the marsh. I had been only a short timein this place when a new bear came into sight. We now made a mostbeautiful stalk right across the open to within a hundred yards. Allthis while a new dog, which I had bought at Kadiak and called Stereke,had crawled with us flat on his stomach, trembling all over withexcitement as he watched the bear. I had plenty of time to take aim, andwas in no way excited, but missed clean at one hundred yards. At thereport of my rifle Stereke bit himself clear from Nikolai, who washolding him, and at once made for the bear, which he tackled in a mostencouraging manner, nipping his heels, and then quickly getting out ofthe way as the bear charged. But I found that one dog was not enough tohold these bears, and this one got safely away.

It was a dreary camp that night, for I had missed an easy shot without ashadow of excuse. We pitched our small tent at the extreme edge of themarsh behind a large mass of rocks. I turned in thoroughly depressed,but awoke the next morning refreshed, and determined to retrieve mycareless shooting of the day before. A bad surf breaking on the beachprevented our going further up the bay in our baidarkas, as we hadplanned to do. We loafed in the sun until evening, while our nativeskept constant watch of the great meadow where we had seen the bears theday before. We had just turned in, although at ten o'clock it was stilldaylight, when one of the natives came running up to say that a bear wasin sight, so Blake, with three natives and Stereke, made the stalk. Ihad a beautiful chance to watch it from the high rocks beside ourcamp. The men were able to approach to within some fifty yards, andBlake, with his first shot, hit, and with his third killed the bearbefore it could get into the brush. Stereke, when loosed, acted in agallant manner, and tackled the bear savagely.

Unfortunately no measurements were taken, but the bear appeared to besomewhat smaller than the female I killed at Kiliuda Bay, and weighed, Ishould judge, some 450 pounds. It appeared higher on the legs and lessmassive than the Kadiak bear, and had a shorter mane, but was of muchthe same tawny color on the back, although darker on the legs and belly.

Two days later we set out from our camp behind the rocks and paddled ashort distance up the bay.

Here we left the baidarkas and crossed a large meadow without sightingbear. We then followed some miles the banks of a small stream. Leavingmy friend with his two men, I pushed ahead with my natives toinvestigate the country beyond. But the underbrush was so dense it wasimpossible to see more than a few yards ahead. We had gone somedistance, and Fedor and I had just crossed a deep stream on a ricketyfallen tree, while the other native was following, when I chanced tolook back and saw a small black bear just opposite. He must have smeltus, and, wanting to see what sort of creature man was, had deliberatelyfollowed up our tracks. Nikolai had my rifle on the other side of thebrook, so I snatched up Fedor's and twice tried to shoot; but the safetybolt would not work, and when I had it adjusted the bear showed only oneshoulder beyond a tree. It was just drawing back when I pressed thetrigger. The bullet grazed the tree, was deflected, and a patch of hairwas all that I had for what promised the surest of shots.

In the afternoon we made for a place which our hunters declared was asure find for bear; but unlike most "sure places," we sighted our gameeven before we reached the ground. There they were, two large grizzledbrutes, feeding on the salt marsh grass like two cows. We made a mostexciting approach in our baidarkas, winding in and out, across the open,up a small lagoon which cut into the meadow where the bears werefeeding. We got to within two hundred yards when they became suspicious,but could not quite make us out. One now rose on his hind legs to get abetter view, and offered a beautiful chance, but I waited for my friend,whose turn it was to have first shot, and he delayed, thinking that Iwas not ready. The result was that the bears at once made for the woods,and we both missed.

Stereke again did his part well, catching one of the bears and tacklinghim in a noble manner, turning him and doing his best to hold him, butthis was more than one dog could do, and the bear broke away and soonreached cover.

I am glad to record that with this day's miss ended some of the mostcareless shooting I have ever done.

This evening we made our camp on the beach on the other side of thebay. I was up frequently during the night, for bears were constantlymoving about on the mountain side just behind our sleeping place, butalthough I could distinctly hear them, the thick brush prevented mygetting a shot.

In this latitude there is practically no night during the month of June,and I can recall no more enchanting spot than where we were now camped.Even my hard day's work would not bring sleep, and I lay with myfaithful dog at my feet and gazed on the vast mountains about us, theirsummits capped with snow, while their sides were clothed in the dullvelvet browns of last year's herbage, through which the vivid greens ofa northern summer were rapidly forcing themselves.

It was after five next morning when we left in our two baidarkas for theextreme head of the bay, where there was another vast meadow. My friendchose to hunt the right side of this marsh, while I took the left.

On reaching our watching place I settled myself for the day in my furrug, and soon dozed off to finish my night's rest, while my men tookturns with the glasses. About ten o'clock a black bear was sighted along way off, but he soon wandered into the thicket which surrounded themarsh on three sides. At twelve o'clock he appeared again, and we nowcircled well to leeward and waited where two trails met at the edge ofthe meadow, expecting the bear would work down one of them to us. It wasa long tiresome wait, for we were perched upon some tussocks throughwhich the water soon found its way. About five o'clock we returned toour original watching place, where my friend joined me.

The wind had been at a slant, and although we had worked safely aroundthe bear, he must have got the scent of Blake's party, although a longway off, for my friend reported that the bear was coming in ourdirection, as we had counted upon, when he suddenly threw up his head,gave one whiff, and started for the woods.

On Friday morning, June 7, we made a three o'clock start from where wehad passed the night on the beach. The sun was not over the mountainsfor another hour, and there was that great charm which comes in theearly dawn of a summer's day. Blake in his baidarka, and I in mine,paddled along, side by side, and pushed up to the extreme head of thebay, where we came upon an old deserted Indian camp of the year before.Numerous stretchers told of their success with bear; but the remains ofan old fire in the very heart of our shooting grounds warned us that inthis section the bears might have been disturbed; for the Alaskan bearis very wary, and is quick to take alarm at any unusual scent. We cameback to our camp on the beach by ten o'clock, and had our firstsubstantial meal of the day; for we had now adopted the Aleutian habitof taking simply a cup of tea and a piece of bread in order to make theearliest of starts each morning.

After our mid-day breakfast, we usually took a nap until afternoon; butthis day I was not sleepy, and so read for a while, then I loaded myrifle, which I always kept within arm's reach, and was just settling myrugs to turn in, when Stereke gave a sharp bark, and Blake shouted,"Bear." Seizing my rifle I looked up, and walking toward us on thebeach, just 110 yards away, was a good sized bull bear. My dog at oncemade for him, while Blake jumped for his rifle. The bear was justturning when I fired. He bit for the wound, but uttered no sound, andwas just disappearing in the brush when I fired a hasty second; Blakeand I followed into the thick alders after the dog, which was savagelyattacking the bear. His barking told us where the bear was, and Iarrived just in time to see him make a determined charge at the dog,which quickly avoided him, and just as quickly renewed the attack.

I forced my way through the alders and got in two close shots, whichrolled him over. It appeared that my first shot had broken his shoulder,as well as cut the lower portion of the heart; but this bear had gonesome fifty yards, and was still on his feet, when I came up and finishedhim off. He was a fair sized bull, six feet two inches in a straightline along the vertebrae, and stood exactly three feet at theshoulders. He had evidently been fighting, for one ear was badly torn,and his skin was much scarred with old and recent wounds. Afterremoving the pelt the carcass was thrown into the bay, so that theremight be no stench, which my natives declared would be enough to spoilany future shooting in this locality. This same afternoon we moved ourcamp to a new marsh, but the wind was changeable, and we saw nothing.

The next morning we sighted a bear, which fed into the woods before wehad time to come up with him. Shortly after five o'clock the brute madea second appearance, but as the wind had changed and now blew in thewrong direction, a stalk could not be made without our scent beingcarried into the woods, where many bears were apt to be. We made it agreat point never to make a stalk unless the wind was right, for we wereextremely anxious not to spoil the place by diffusing our scent, anddriving away whatever bears might be lurking near. Therefore, many timeswe had a chance to watch bears at only a few hundred yards' distance.

It was most interesting to see how careful these big animals were, andhow, from time to time, they would feel the wind with their noses, andagain stop feeding and listen. No two bears seemed to be built on quitethe same lines. Some were high at the shoulders and then sloped downtoward the rump and nose; and again, others were saddle-backed; stillothers stood with their front feet directly under them, making a regularcurve at the shoulders; while others had the front legs wide apart, andseemed to form a triangle, the apex of which was at the shoulders.

Their range of color seemed to be from very dark, silver-tipped, to avery light dirty yellow, but with dark legs and belly.

This evening, just as we were having our tea, another bear made hisappearance. The first, which we had been watching, evidently heard himcoming through the woods, and as the second came out into the open theformer vanished. The new one was a dirty yellowish white, with very darkbelly and legs, which gave him a most comical appearance.

The wind still continued unfavorable, and my friend and I passed anextremely interesting evening with the glasses, for this watching game,especially bear, gives me almost as much pleasure as making the actualstalk.

About ten o'clock the wind changed, and Blake went after the bear, butunfortunately missed at about one hundred yards.

The following day opened dull, and we spent the morning keeping a sharpwatch on the marsh. About ten o'clock a large bear was seen to come outfrom the trees. The wind was wrong, and as the bear was in anunapproachable position I had to sit with folded arms and watch him. Iused the glasses with much interest until shortly after four o'clock,when he slowly fed into the brush.

We had just finished supper when we saw another bear in a betterposition, and I proceeded to make the stalk, going part of the way inthe baidarka, for the great meadow was intersected by a stream fromwhich small lagoons made off in all directions. The wind was verybaffling, and although we successfully reached a clump of brush in themiddle of the marsh, the bear for some time continued to graze in anunapproachable spot. We had almost given up hope of getting a shot,when he turned and fed slowly some fifty yards in a new direction, whichwas up-wind. This was our chance. Quickly regaining the baidarka, wepaddled as noiselessly and rapidly as possible up the main stream of themarsh to a small lagoon, which now at high tide had sufficient water tofloat us.

There was great charm in stalking game in this manner, although I was,in a sense, but a passenger in my natives' hands. But it was fascinatingto watch their keenness and skill as they guided the frail craft roundthe sharp turns, the noiseless use of the paddles, the light in theireye as they constantly stood up in the canoe to keep a hidden gaze uponthe game ahead, watching its every movement as well as the local eddiesand currents in the light evening breeze. All was so in keeping with thesombre leaden clouds overhead, and the grizzled sides of the ungainlybrute, blending in with the background of weather-beaten tree trunks andthe dull gray rocks. And so, silently and swiftly, stopping many timeswhen the bear's head was up, we approached nearer and nearer, until myhead man whispered, _Boudit_ (enough), and I knew that I was tohave a fair shot. Stealthily raising my head above the bank I saw thebear feeding, only seventy-five yards away. Creeping cautiously out ofthe boat I lay flat upon my stomach, rifle cocked and ready, waiting fora good shot. Soon it came. The bear heard some sound in the forest, andraised his head. Now was my chance, and the next second he droppedwithout a sound; he struggled to rise, but I could see he was anchoredwith a broken shoulder. My men were unable to restrain themselves anylonger, and as I shot for the second time, their rifles cracked justafter mine. We now rushed up to close quarters. The bear, shot throughthe lungs, was breathing heavily and rapidly choking.

Suddenly I heard a yap, and then, out over the marsh, came Stereke atfull speed. I had left him with my friend, as we thought we might haveto do some delicate stalking across the open. He had sighted the bear,and watched our approach all a-tremble, and at the report of my riflethere was no holding him. Over the ground he came in great bounds, andarrived just in time to give the bear a couple of shakes before hebreathed his last. We carried the entire carcass to the baidarka, andeven the cartridge shells were taken away, to avoid tainting the placewith an unusual scent.

The next day we returned to the main camp, for Fedor, who was ill, hadbecome very weak, and was in no condition to stand any hardships. Weleft him at the main camp in care of Payjaman. He was greatlydepressed, and seemed to give way completely, frequently saying that henever expected to see his home again. Knowing the Aleut's character sowell, I much feared that his mental state might work fatal results. Ourmedicines were of the simplest, and there was but little we coulddo. Fortunately he did recover, but it was not until two weeks later,when our hunt was nearly over, that he began to get better.

Three days afterward we were back again at our camp behind the rocks. Wehad wanted rain for some time to wash out all scent. Then again bearsare supposed to move about more freely in such weather. Therefore wewere rather pleased when the wind changed, bringing a northwest stormwhich continued all the next day. The lofty mountains were rapidlylosing the snow on their summits, and the night's rain had wroughtmarvels in their appearance, seeming to bring out every shade of greenon their wooded slopes. One of our natives was kept constantly on thelookout, and a dozen times a day both Blake and I would leave our booksand climb to the watching place for a view across the great meadow. Bythis time we knew the bear trails and the most tempting feeding grounds,and the surest approaches to the game when it had once come into theopen. Therefore when I was told this evening that a bear had beensighted, I felt pretty sure of getting a shot. He had not come well outinto the open, and was clearly keeping near cover and working parallelto the brush. If he continued in this direction he would soon be out ofsight. Our only chance was to make a quick approach, and Nikolai and Iwere immediately under way, leaving my dog with my friend, who was toloose him in case I got a shot.

The wind was coming in great gusts across our front, and the cornerwhere the bear was feeding offered a dangerous place for eddies andback-currents against the mountain side. In order to avoid these, wekept just inside the woods. Nikolai going first showed the greatestskill in knowing just how close to the wind we could go. We quicklyreached the place where we expected to sight the bear, but he was hiddenin the bed of the river, and it was some minutes before we could makeout the top of his head moving above the grass. Then noiselessly wecrawled up as the bear again fed slowly into view. He was now about 125yards away, and offered an excellent shot as he paused and raised hishead to scent the breeze; but Nikolai whispered, "No," and we workednearer, crawling forward when the bear's head was down, and lying flatand close when his head was up.

It is curious to note that often when game is being stalked it becomessuspicious, although it cannot smell, hear, or see the stalker;instinct, perhaps--call it what you will. And now this bear turned andbegan moving slowly toward cover. For some time he was hidden fromview, and then, just before he would finally vanish from sight, hepaused a moment, offering a quartering shot. The lower half of his bodywas concealed by the grass, but it was my last chance, and I took it,aiming for the lungs and rather high in order to get a clear shot. I sawas he bit for the wound that the bullet was well placed, and as heturned and lumbered across our front, I fired two more deliberate shots,one going through the fore leg and one breaking a hind leg.

Nikolai also fired, giving the bear a slight skin wound, and hitting thehind leg just above where one of my bullets had previously struck. Asthe bear entered the brush we both ran up, my hunter going to the leftwhile I went a little below to head the bear off. We soon came upon him,and Nikolai, getting the first sight, gave him another bullet throughthe lungs with my heavy rifle, and in a few moments he rolled over dead.

It was my thought always to keep a wounded bear from getting into thebrush, as the blood trail would have ruined future shooting.

I think it important to point out that when my bullet struck this bearhe bit for the wound. As he did so he was turned from his originaldirection, which would have carried him in one bound out of sight amongthe trees, and instead turned and galloped across our front, therebygiving me an opportunity to fire two more shots. It frequently happenedthat bears were turned from their original direction to the sides uponwhich they received the first bullet, and we always gave this mattercareful consideration when making an approach.

My Aleuts were not permitted to shoot unless we were following up awounded bear in the thick brush; but I found it most difficult to keepthem to this rule. The large hole of the bullet from my .50-caliber whichNikolai carried made it easy to distinguish his hits, and if a bear hadreceived the mortal wound from his rifle, I should not have kept theskin.

The pelt of this bear which we had just killed was in excellentcondition, and although he was not fat, he was of fair size, measuring 6feet 3-1/8 inches along the vertebrae.

Great care was taken as usual to pick up the empty cartridge shells, andwe pulled up the bloody bits of grass, throwing them into a brook, intowhich we put also the bear's carcass.

The storm continued for several days, and was accompanied by anunfavorable wind, which drew up into all our shooting grounds. We keptquietly in camp, which was so situated that although we were justopposite the great marsh, our scent was carried safely away. Then wewere most careful to have only small fires for our cooking, and we wereextremely particular to select dry wood, so that there would be aslittle smoke as possible.

All this while we kept a constant watch upon the meadow, but no bearsmade their appearance.

On the morning of the 19th, my friend and his hunter went up the shoreto investigate a small marsh lying a mile or so from camp. Here they sawthat the grass had been recently nibbled, and that there were freshsigns about. They returned to this spot again that evening and sighted abear. The bear fed quickly up to within sixty-five yards, when Blakerolled him over. This bear was not a large one, and was of the usualtawny color.

The next morning a bear was seen by my natives in the big meadow by ourcamp, but he did not remain long enough for a stalk. At 9:30 he againcame out into the open, and Nikolai and I made a quick approach, but thebear, although he was not alarmed, did not wait long enough for us toget within range. We had skirted the marsh, keeping just inside of thethicket, and now when the bear disappeared we settled ourselves for along wait should he again come into the open. We were well hidden fromview, and the wind blew slanting in our faces and across our front. Ihad just begun to think that we should not get a shot until the bearcame out for his evening feed, when Nikolai caught my arm and pointedahead. There, slowly leaving the dense edge of the woods, was a newbear, not so large as the first, but we could see at a glance that shehad a beautiful coat of a dark silver-tip color.

Removing boots and stockings, and circling around, we came out aboutseventy-five yards from where we had last seen the bear; but she hadmoved a short distance ahead, and offered us a grand chance for a closeapproach. Keeping behind a small point which made out into the open, wewere able to crawl up to within fifty yards, and then, waiting until thebear's head was up, I gave her a quartering shot behind theshoulders. She half fell, and bit for the wound, and as she slowlystarted for the woods I gave her another shot which rolled herover. This bear proved to be a female, the first we had shot upon themainland, probably the mate of the bear we had originally attempted tostalk. The skin, although small, was the most beautiful I have everkilled.

Upon examining the internal effects of my shots, I was disappointed tofind that my first bullet, on coming in contact with one of the ribs,had torn away from the metal jacket and had expanded to, such an extentthat it lost greatly in penetration. I had of late been forced to theconclusion that the small-bore rifle I was using on such heavy gamelacked the stopping force I had credited it with, and that the bulletswere not of sufficient weight.

The next morning I sent our men to the main camp for provisions, for wenow intended to give this marsh a rest, and go to the head of the bay.They returned that evening, and reported that they had seen a bear onthe mountain side; they had stalked to within close range, and had madean easy kill. They had but one rifle with them, and had taken turns,Ivan having the first shot, while Nikolai finished the bear off. Thisskin was a beautiful one, of light yellowish color, and although our menwanted to present it to us, neither Blake nor I cared to bring it homewith the trophies we had shot.

On June 23 we turned our baidarkas' bows to the upper bay, at the headof which we ascended a small river that wound through a vast meadowuntil the stream met the mountains. Here we unloaded our simple campgear, and while the men prepared breakfast, Blake and I ascended anelevation which commanded an uninterrupted view of the grassy plain. Nobears were in sight, so we had time and undisturbed opportunity to enjoythe beauty of the scene. We lay for some time basking in the sun,talking of books and people, and of many subjects of commoninterest. Now and then one would take the glasses and scan the outskirtsof the vast meadow which stretched before us. All at once Blake gave alow exclamation and pointed to the west. I followed the direction of hisgaze, and saw four bears slowly leaving the woods. They were at somedistance, and we did not think we had time to reach them before theywould probably return to the underbrush for their mid-day sleep, so forthe present we let them go.

After breakfast, as they were still In the same place, we attempted thestalk, going most of the way in our baidarkas, winding in and outthrough the meadow in the small lagoons which intersected it in alldirections. Every little while the men would ascend the banks with theglasses, thus keeping a watchful eye upon the bears' movements. Takinga time when they had fed into the underbrush, we made a quick circle toleeward over the open, then reaching the edge of the thicket, weapproached cautiously to a selected watching place. We reached thisspot shortly after one o'clock. The bears had entered the woods, so wesettled ourselves for a long wait. It was Blake's turn to shoot, whichmeant that he was to have an undisturbed first shot at the largest bear,and after he had fired I could take what was left.

Just before three o'clock three bears again made their appearance. Twowere yearlings which in the fall would leave their mother and shift forthemselves, and one much larger, which lay just at the edge of theunderbrush. Had these yearlings not been with the mother she would nothave come out so early in the afternoon, and, as it was, she kept in theshadow of the alders, while the two smaller ones fed out some distancefrom the woods.

We now removed our boots, and, with Stereke well in hand, for he smeltthe bears and was tugging hard on his collar, noiselessly skirted thewoods, keeping some tall grass between the bears and ourselves. In thisway we approached to within one hundred yards. Twice one of the smalleranimals rose on his hind legs and looked in our direction; but the windwas favorable, and we were well concealed, so they did not take alarm.

My friend decided to shoot the mother, while I was to reserve my fireuntil after his shot. I expected that at the report of his rifle thebear I had chosen would pause a moment in surprise, and thus offer agood standing shot. As my friend's rifle cracked, the bear I hadselected made a sudden dash for the woods, and I had to take him on therun. At my first shot he turned a complete somersault, and then, quicklyspringing up, again made a dash for cover. I fired a second time, androlled him over for good and all. Stereke was instantly slipped, andmade at once for my bear. By the time we had run up he was shaking andbiting his hindquarters in a most approved style. We at once put himafter the larger bear, which Blake had wounded, and his bark in thethick alders told us he had located her. We all followed in and foundthat the bear, although down, was still alive. Blake gave her a finalshot through the lungs.

The third bear got away, but I believe it was wounded by Nikolai. Theone that Blake had killed was the largest female we got on thePeninsula, measuring 6 feet 6 feet 6-1/2 inches along the vertebrae.

It is interesting to note that the two yearlings differed greatly incolor. One was a grizzled brown, like the mother, while the other wasvery much lighter, of a light dirty yellowish color.

We had watched these bears for some hours in the morning, and I feelpositive that the mother had no cubs of this spring with her; yet onexamination milk was found in her breasts. My natives told me thatfrequently yearling cubs continue to suckle, and surely we had positiveproof of this with the large female bear.

On our way back to camp that night we saw two more bears on the otherside of the marsh, but they did not stay in the open sufficiently longto allow us to come up.

The mosquitoes had by this time become almost unbearable, and it waslate before they permitted us to get to sleep. About 3 A.M. it began torain, but I was so tired that I slept on, although my pillow andblankets were soon well soaked. As the rain continued, we finally put upour small tent; but everything had become thoroughly wet, and we passeda most uncomfortable day.

In the afternoon a black bear appeared not far from our campingplace. My friend went after this with his hunter, who made a mostwonderful stalk. The bear was in an almost unapproachable position, andthe two men appeared to be going directly down wind; but Ivan insistedthat there was a slight eddy in the breeze, and in this he must havebeen correct, for he brought Blake up to within sixty yards, when myfriend killed the bear with a bullet through the brain.

I think it is interesting to note that our shooting grounds were theextreme western range of the black bear. A few years ago they were notfound in this locality, but it is quite evident that they are each yearworking further and further to the westward.

The next day the heavy rain still continued. The meadow was now onevast bog, and the small lagoons were swollen into deep and rapidstreams. Everything was wet, and we passed an uncomfortable day. Ourtwo hunters were camped about fifty yards off under a big rock, and Ithink must have had a pretty hard time of it, but all the while theykept a sharp lookout.

About one o'clock the men reported that a large bear had been seen somedistance off, but that it had remained in sight only a short time. Weexpected this bear would again make his appearance in the afternoon, andin this surmise we were correct, for he came out into the open threehours later, when Nikolai and I with Stereke made the stalk. We circledwell to leeward, fording the many rapid streams with greatdifficulty. The rain had melted the snow on the hills, and we frequentlyhad to wade almost up to our shoulders in this icy water.

In crossing one of the lagoons Stereke was carried under some fallentrees, and for a while I very much feared that my dog would bedrowned. The same thing almost happened to myself, for the swift currenttwice carried me off my feet.

The bear had fed well into the open, and it was impossible, even by themost careful stalking, to get nearer than a small patch of tall grassabout 175 yards away. I put up my rifle to shoot, but found that thefront sight was most unsteady, for I was wet to the skin and shaking allover with cold. Half expecting to miss, I pressed the trigger, and wasnot greatly surprised to see my bullet splash in the marsh just over thebear's head. He saw the bullet strike on the other side, and now came inour direction, but Stereke, breaking loose from Nikolai, turned him. Henow raced across our front at about 125 yards, with the dog in closepursuit. This gave me an excellent chance, and I fired three moreshots. At my last, I saw the bear bite for his shoulder, showing that mybullet was well placed. He continued to dash ahead, when Nikolai fired,also hitting him in the shoulder with the heavy rifle. He dropped, butgamely tried to rise and face Stereke, who savagely attacked hisquarters. Nikolai now fired again, his bullet going in at the chest,raking him the entire length, and lodging under the skin at the hindknee joint. Unfortunately this bear fell in so much water that it wasimpossible to take any other accurate measurement than the one along hisback. This was the largest bear we shot on the mainland, and the onemeasurement that I was able to take was 6 feet 10 inches along thevertebrae.

[Illustration: THE HUNTER AND HIS HOME]

On examining the internal effects of his wounds, I found that my bullethad struck the shoulder blade and penetrated one lung, but had gone topieces on coming in contact with the bone. Although it would haveeventually proved a mortal wound, the shock at the time was notsufficient to knock the bear off his feet.

The next morning the storm broke, and we started back to our camp behindthe rocks, for the skins we had recently shot needed to be cleaned anddried. We reached camp that afternoon, where I found my old hunter,Fedor, who was now better, and had come to join us. He had arrived thenight before, and reported that he had seen three bears on the marsh. Hesaid he had watched them all the evening, and that the next morning twomore had made their appearance. He could no longer withstand thistemptation, and just before we had arrived had shot a small black bearwith an excellent skin.

Two days after, a bear was reported in the meadow, and as it was myfriend's turn to shoot, he started with his hunter to make the stalk. Itwas raining at the time, and I was almost tempted to lie among myblankets; but my love of sport was too strong, and, armed with powerfulglasses, I joined the men on the rocks to watch the hunters.

The bear had fed well out into the meadow not far from a small clump oftrees. In order to reach this clump of trees, Blake and Ivan wereobliged to wade quite a deep stream, and had removed theirclothes. Unfortunately my friend carelessly left his coat, in the pocketof which were all the extra cartridges for his and Ivan's rifles.

I saw them reach the clump of trees, and then turned the glasses on thebear. At the first shot he sprang back in surprise, while Blake's bulletwent high. The bear now located the shot, and began a quick retreat tothe woods, when one of my friend's bullets struck him, rolling him over.He instantly regained his feet, and continued making for cover, walkingslowly and looking back over his shoulder all the while. Blake now firedanother shot, and again the bear was apparently badly hit. He moved atsuch a slow pace that I thought he had surely received a mortal wound.

Entirely against orders, Ivan now shot three times in quick succession,hitting the bear with one shot in the hind leg, his other two shotsbeing misses. Blake now rushed after the bear with his hunter followingsome fifty yards behind, and approached to within ten steps, when hefired his last cartridge, hitting the bear hard. The beast fell upon itshead, but once more regaining its feet, continued toward the woods. Atthis point Ivan fired his last cartridge, but missed. The bear continuedfor several steps, while the two hunters stood with empty rifleswatching. Suddenly, quick as a flash, he swung round upon his hind legsand gave one spring after Blake, who, not understanding his Aleut'sshouts not to run, started across the marsh, with the bear in closepursuit. At every step the bear was gaining, and Ivan, appreciating thatunless the bear's attention was distracted, my friend would soon bepulled down, began waving his arms and shouting at the top of his voice,in order to attract the bear's attention from Blake. The latter sawthat his hunter was standing firm, and, taking in the situation,suddenly stopped. The bear charged to within a few feet of the two men;but, when he saw their determined stand, paused, and, swinging his headfrom side to side, watched them for some seconds, apparently undecidedwhether to charge home or leave them. Then he turned, and, looking backover his shoulder, made slowly for the woods.

This bear while charging had his head stretched forward, ears flat, andteeth clinched, with his lips drawn well back, and his eyes glaring. Iam convinced that it was only Ivan's great presence of mind whichprevented a most serious accident.

It is a strange fact that a well placed bullet will knock the fight outof such game; but if they are once thoroughly aroused it takes much morelead to kill them. When they had got more cartridges my friend with twonatives proceeded to follow this bear up; but though they tracked himsome miles, he was never recovered.

The Aleuts when they follow up a wounded bear in thick cover, strip tothe skin, for they claim in this way they are able to move with greaterfreedom, and at the same time there are no clothes to catch in the brushand make noise. They go slowly and are most cautious, for frequentlywhen a bear is wounded, if he thinks that he is being pursued, he willswing around on his own trail and spring out from the side upon thehunters.

The next day I started with my two natives to visit a meadow well up thebay.

As we had but a day or two left before the schooner would come to takeus away, we headed in the only direction in which the wind wasfavorable. We left camp about three o'clock in the afternoon, followingthe shore with the wind quartering in our faces. We had gone but a milefrom camp when I caught an indistinct outline of a bear feeding on thegrass at the edge of the timber, about 125 yards away. I quickly fired,missing through sheer carelessness.

At the report the bear jumped sideways, unable to locate the sound, andmy next bullet struck just above his tail and ranged forward into thelungs. Fedor now fired, missing, while I ran up with Nikolai, firinganother shot as I ran, which knocked the bear over. Stereke savagelyattacked the bear, biting and shaking him, and seeing that he wasbreathing his last, I refrained from firing again, as the skin wasexcellent.

This bear had had an encounter with a porcupine. One of his paws wasfilled with quills, and in skinning him we found that some quills hadworked well up the leg and lodged by the ankle joint, making a mostloathsome wound.

This bear was almost as large as the one I had last shot at the head ofthe bay, and his pelt made a grand trophy. I was much disgusted withmyself that afternoon for missing my first shot. It is not enough simplyto get your bear, but one should always endeavor to kill with the firstshot, otherwise much game will be lost, for the first is almost alwaysthe easiest shot, hence one should kill or mortally wound at thatchance.

This was the last bear that we shot on the Alaska Peninsula. I had beenfortunate in killing seven brown bears, while Blake had killed threebrown and one black, and our natives had killed one brown and one blackbear, making a total of thirteen between the 7th and 28th of June.

The skulls of these brown bears we sent to Dr. Merriam, Chief of theBiological Survey, at Washington, and they proved to be most interestingfrom a scientific point of view, for from them the classification of thebears of the Alaska Peninsula has been entirely changed, and it seemsthat we were fortunate enough to bring out material enough to establisha new species as well as a new sub-species.

The teeth of these two kinds of bears show a marked and uniformdifference, proving conclusively that there is no interbreeding betweenthe species. I was told by Dr. Merriam that the idea which is socommonly believed, that different species of bears interbreed like dogs,is entirely wrong.

III.

MY BIG BEAR OF SHUYAK

As I had been fortunate in shooting bears upon the Island of Kadiak andthe Alaska Peninsula, nothing remained but for me to obtain a specimenfrom one of the outlying islands of the Kadiak group, to render my tripin every way successful.

I therefore determined to take my two natives and hunt from a baidarkathe deep bays of the Island of Afognak, while Blake, not yet havingobtained his bear from Kadiak, went back to hunt there.

He had been extremely good to his men, and in settling with them on hisreturn from the Alaska Peninsula had good-naturedly paid the excessivedemands they made. The result was that his kindness was mistaken forweakness, and just as he was about to leave his hunters struck for anincrease of pay. He sent them to the right-about, and fortunatelysucceeded in filling their places.

A sportsman in going into a new country owes it to those who follow toresist firmly exorbitant demands and at the same time to be fair andjust in all his dealings.

I have already described bear hunting in the spring, when we stalked ourgame upon the snowy hillsides, and again on the Alaska Peninsula, wherewe hunted across the open on foot, and also in the baidarka. I will nowspeak of another form.

Toward the end of June the red salmon begin to run. These go up only thestreams that have their sources in lakes. After the red salmon, come thehumpbacks, and after the humpbacks, the dog salmon. Both of these latterin great numbers force their way up all the streams, and are thefavorite food of the bears, which come down from the mountains by deep,well-defined trails to catch the fish in the shallow streams. When thesalmon have begun to run, the only practical way of hunting these bearsis by watching some likely spot on the bank of a stream.

Early in July Blake and I parted, intending to meet again two weekslater. My friend sailed away in a small schooner, while I left with mytwo natives in the baidarka. In Fedor's place I had engaged a native bythe name of Lofka. We three paddled with a will, as we were anxious toreach a deep bay on the north side of the Island of Afognak as soon aspossible.

This was all familiar country to me, for I had spent over a month inthis locality the year before, and as we camped for the night I couldhardly realize that twelve months had gone by since I left thisbeautiful spot. For the Island of Afognak, with its giant cliffs anddeep bays, is to my mind one of the most picturesque regions I have everseen.

The next morning the wind was unfavorable, but in the afternoon we wereable to visit one of the salmon streams. The red salmon had come, but itwould be another week or more before the humpbacks would begin theirrun. It was a bleak day, with the rain driving in our faces. We forcedour way up the banks of a stream for some miles, following well-definedbear trails through the tall grass. Some large tracks were seen, but wesighted no game. We returned to camp after ten o'clock that night, wetto the skin and chilled through. The following day was a repetition ofthis, only under worse weather conditions, if that were possible.

I now decided to push on to a large bay on the northeast side of theisland. This is locally known as Seal Bay, and is supposed to be withoutquestion the best hunting ground on Afognak.

Unfortunately a heavy wind detained us in Paramonoff Bay for twodays. The morning after the storm broke we made a four o'clock start.There was a strong favoring breeze, and we made a sail of one of theblankets. The baidarka fairly flew, but it was rather ticklish work, asthe sea was quite rough. Early that afternoon we turned into the narrowstraits which lie between the islands of Afognak and Shuyak. Shuyak isuninhabited, but some natives have hunting barabaras there. Formerlythis island contained great numbers of silver gray foxes. A few yearsago some white trappers visited it and put out poison. The result wasthe extermination of all the foxes upon the island, for not only thefoxes that ate the poison died, but the others which ate the poisonedcarcasses. The hunters obtained but one skin, as the foxes died intheir holes or in the woods, and were not found until their pelts werespoiled. This is a fair example of the great need for Alaskan game laws.

At the present time Shuyak is rich in bear and in land otter, and I canimagine no better place for a national game preserve. It has lakes andsalmon streams, and would be an ideal place to stock.

The straits between Shuyak and Afognak are extremely dangerous, for thegreat tides from Cook Inlet draw through this narrow passage. My nervewas tested a bit as the baidarka swept by the shore, for had it once gotwell started we should have been drawn into the rapids and then into along line of angry breakers beyond. At one point it seemed as if we wereheading right into these dangerous waters, and then abruptly turning ata sharp angle, we glided around a point into a shallow bay. Circlingthis shore we successfully passed inside the line of breakers and soonmet the long ground swell of the Pacific, while Seal Bay stretched formany miles inland on the other side.

It had been a long day, but as the wind was favorable we stopped onlyfor a cup of tea and then pushed on to the very head of the bay. Here,at the mouth of a salmon stream, we came upon many fresh bear tracks,and passed the night watching. As we had seen nothing by four o'clock inthe morning, we cautiously withdrew, and, going some distance down theshore, camped in an old hunting barabara. It had been rather a longstretch, when one considers that we had breakfasted a little overtwenty-four hours before. Watching a salmon stream by night is poorsport, but it is the only kind of hunting that one can do at this timeof the year.

I slept until seven o'clock, when the men called me, and after a cup oftea we started for the salmon stream, which we followed up beyond wherewe had watched it the night previous. We were very careful to wade so asnot to give our scent to any bears which might approach the stream frombelow. There were many tracks and deep, well-used trails leading in alldirections, while every few yards we came upon places where the tallgrass was trampled down, showing where bears had been fishing. Thesebear trails are quite a feature of the Alaskan country, and some of themare two feet wide and over a foot deep, showing that they have been inconstant use for many years.

That night we heard a bear pass within ten yards of us, but could notsee it. We returned to camp next morning at five o'clock, and I wrote upmy journal, for this night work is extremely confusing, and onecompletely loses track of the days unless careful.

My men came to me after their mid-day sleep with very cheerfulcountenances, and assured me that there was no doubt but that I shouldsurely soon meet with success, for the palm of Nikolai's hand had beenitching, and he had dreamed of blood and a big dog fighting, whileLofka's eyelid trembled. My hunters told me in all seriousness thatthese signs never failed.

In the afternoon we decided to watch a new place. We carried thebaidarka up a small stream and launched it in quite a large andpicturesque lake. We slowly paddled along the shores and watched nearthe mouths of several salmon streams. By twelve o'clock we had not evenseen a track, so I decided to return to camp and get some much neededsleep. The natives were to call me early the next morning, for I haddecided to return to Paramonoff Bay.

I think this was the only time in my hunting life that I wasdeliberately lazy; but, although my natives called me several times, Islept right on until nine o'clock. I was strongly tempted when we gotunder way to start back by continuing around the Island of Afognak; butNikolai was anxious to have me give Paramonoff Bay another trial. Hethought the run of the humpback salmon might have begun since we left,and if this was so, we were likely to find some large bears near thestreams we had watched the week before. I had great confidence in hisjudgment, and therefore decided to retrace our steps.

We made a start about ten o'clock, but after a couple of hours'paddling, when we had met a fair tide to help us on, I lit my pipe andallowed my men to do all the work, while I lay back among my rugs halfdreaming in the charm of my surroundings. Myriads of gulls flewoverhead, uttering their shrill cries, while now and then the blackoyster-catchers with their long red bills would circle swiftly aroundthe baidarka, filling the air with their sharp whistles, and seeminglymuch annoyed at our intrusion. Many different kinds of ducks rose beforeus, and the ever-present eagles watched us from the lofty rocks. We soonturned the rugged headland and were once more in the swift tide ofShuyak Straits, where the water boiled and eddied about us as we spedquickly on.

Nikolai now pointed out one of his favorite hunting grounds for seals,and asked if he might not try for one; so we turned into a big bay, andhe soon had the glasses in use. He at once sighted several lying on somerocks, and we had just started in their direction when Nikolai suddenlystopped paddling, again seized the glasses, and looked excitedly acrossthe straits to the Shuyak shore. Following the direction of his gaze Isaw upon the beach a black speck which my native at once pronounced tobe a bear. He was nosing around among some seaweed and turning over therocks in search of food. Each one of us now put all his strength intoevery stroke in order to reach the other side before the bear couldwander off. We cautiously landed behind some big rocks, and quicklyremoving our boots my hunter and I were soon on shore and noiselesslypeering through the brush to the place where we had last seen the bear;but he had disappeared.

The wind was favorable, and we knew that he had not been alarmed. Ittook us some time to hit off his trail, for he had wandered in alldirections before leaving this place; but after it was once found, hisfootprints in the thick moss made tracking easy, and we moved rapidlyon. We had not expected a long stalk, and our feet were badly punishedby the devil clubs which were here most abundant. We could see by thetracks that the bear had not been alarmed, and knew that we should sooncome up with him. After a mile or so the trail led in the direction of alow marsh where the coast line makes a big bend inward, so apparently wehad crossed a long point into a bay beyond.

I at once felt sure that the bear was near, having probably come to thisbeach to feed, and as Nikolai looked at me and smiled I knew he, too,felt that we were on a warm trail.

We had just begun to descend toward the shore when I thought I heard aslight noise ahead. Keeping my eyes fixed in that direction, Iwhispered to Nikolai, who was standing a few feet in front of me,intently peering to the right. Suddenly I caught just a glimpse of atawny, brownish bit of color through the brush a short distanceahead. Quickly raising my rifle I had just a chance for a snap shot, andthe next instant a large hear made a dash through some thickunderbrush. It was but an indistinct glimpse which I had had, and beforeI could throw another cartridge into the barrel of my rifle the bear wasout of sight. Keeping my eyes moving at about the rate of speed Ijudged he was going, I fired again through the trees, and at once a deepand angry growl told me that my bullet had gone home.

Then we raced ahead, my hunter going to the left while I entered thethick brush into which the bear had disappeared. I had gone but a shortdistance when I heard Nikolai shoot three times in rapid succession, andas quickly as I could break through I hurried in his direction. Itseemed that as we separated, Nikolai had at once caught sight of thebear slowly making away. He immediately fired but missed; at the reportof his rifle the bear turned and came toward him, but was too badlywounded by my first two shots to be dangerous. At close range Nikolaifired two more shots, and it was at this moment that I joined him. Thebear was down, but trying hard to get upon his feet, and evidently in anangry mood, so I ran up close and gave him another shot, which againknocked him over.

Now for the first time I had a good view of the bear, which proved to bea very large one. As my men declared that this was one of the largestthey had ever seen, I think we may safely place it as a fair example ofthe Kadiak species. Unfortunately I had no scales with me, and couldnot, therefore, take its weight; but the three of us were unable tobudge either end from the ground, and after removing the pelt thecarcass appeared to be as large as a fair sized ox. We had muchdifficulty in skinning him, for he fell on his face, and it took us somehalf hour even to turn him over; we were only able to do this by usinghis legs as levers. It required over two hours to remove the pelt.Then we had tea and shot the bear all over again many times, as we satchatting before the fire.

It seemed that at the time when I had first caught sight of this bear,Nikolai had just located the bear which we had originally seen and werefollowing, and it was a great piece of luck my taking this snap shot,for the other bear was much smaller.

We took the skin and skull with us, while I made arrangements with mynatives to return some months later and collect all the bones, for Idecided to present the entire skeleton to the National Museum.

It was six o'clock when we again made a start. I had a deep sense ofsatisfaction as I lay lazily back in the baidarka with the large skin atmy feet, only occasionally taking the paddle, for it had been a hardtrip, and I felt unlike exerting myself. We camped that night in ahunting barabara which belonged to Nikolai, and was most picturesquelysituated on a small island.

My natives were extremely fond of bear meat, and they sat long into thenight gorging themselves. Each one would dig into the kettle with hisfork, and bringing out a big chunk would crowd as much as possible intohis mouth, and holding it there with his teeth would cut off with hishunting knife a liberal portion, which he would swallow after a munch ortwo.

I had tried to eat Kadiak bear before, but it has rather a bitter taste,and this one was too tough to be appetizing. The flesh of the bearswhich we had killed on the Alaska Peninsula was excellent and withoutthis strong gamy flavor.[5]

[Footnote 5: The true Kadiak bear is found only on the Kadiak Islandsand not on the mainland.]

The next morning we made an early start, for to save this large skin Ihad decided to push on with all haste to the little settlement ofAfognak, where I had arranged to meet my friend some days later. It wasa beautiful morning, and once more we had a favoring breeze. Some fortymiles across Shelikoff Straits was the Alaskan shore. The rugged,snow-clad mountains seemed to be softened when seen through the hazyblue atmosphere. One white-capped peak boldly pierced a line of cloudsand stood forth against the pale blue of the sky beyond; while the greatDouglas Glacier, ever present, wound its way down, down to the verysea. It was all grandly beautiful, and seemed In keeping with the day.

We paddled steadily, stopping only once for tea, and at six o'clock thatevening were back at the little fishing hamlet of Malina Place. Here Iwas asked to drink tea with a man whom my hunters told me had killedmany bears on these islands.

This man said that at times there were no bears on Shuyak, and thatagain they were there in great numbers, showing that they freely swimfrom Afognak across the straits, which, at the narrowest point, are somethree miles wide.

[Illustration: BAIDARKA.]

While I was having tea in one of the barabaras I heard much shootingoutside, which announced the return of a sea otter party that had beenhunting for two months at Cape Douglas. It was a beautiful sight, thisfleet of twenty odd baidarkas, the paddles all rising and falling inperfect time, and changing sides without a break. There is nothing moregraceful than one of these canoes when handled by expert Aleuts. Thesenatives had already come forty miles that day, and were now going tostop only long enough for tea, and then push on to the little settlementof Afognak Place, some twenty-five miles away, where most of themlived. In one of the canoes I saw a small chap of thirteen years. He wasthe chief's son, and already an expert in hunting and in handling thebaidarka. So is the Aleut hunter trained.

As it had been a very warm day I feared that the skin mightspoil. Therefore I concluded to continue to Afognak Place withoutcamping for the night, and so we paddled on and on. As darkness came,the mountains seemed to rise grander and more majestic from the water oneither side of us. At midnight we again stopped for tea, and while wesat by the fire the host of baidarkas of the sea otter party silentlyglided by like shadows. We joined them, for my men had much to tell oftheir four months with the white hunter, and many questions were askedon both sides.

Some miles from Afognak the baidarkas drew up side by side in a long,even line, our baidarka joining in. _Drasti_ and _Chemi_[6]came to me from all sides, for I had from time to time met most of thenative hunters of this island, and they seemed to regard me as quite oneof them.

[Footnote 6: Russian and Aleut for "How do you do?"]

When all the straggling baidarkas had caught up and taken their placesin the line, the chief gave the word _Kedar_ ("Come on"), and weall paddled forward, and just as the sun was rising above the hills wereached our journey's end.

Two days later my friend joined me. He also had been successful, and hadkilled a good sized male bear in Little Uganuk Bay on Kadiak Island.

Our bear hunt was now over, and we had been fortunate in accomplishingall we had hoped for.

IV.

THE WHITE SHEEP OF KENAI PENINSULA

The last of July Blake and I sailed from the Kadiak Islands, and oneweek later were landed at the little settlement of Kenai, on the KenaiPeninsula.

The mountains of this region are unquestionably the finest big-gameshooting grounds in North America at the present day. Here one mayexpect to find four different kinds of bears--black, two species ofbrown, and the Alaska grizzly--the largest of moose, and the Kenai formof the white sheep (_Ovis dalli_).

These hills lie back from the coast some thirty miles, and may bereached by one of several rivers. It takes a couple of days to ascendsome of these streams, but we determined to select a country moredifficult to enter, thinking it would be less often visited by the localnative hunters. We therefore chose the mountains lying adjacent to theKenai Lake--a district which it took from a week to ten days to reach.

On August 14, shortly after noon, we started up the river which was tolead us to our shooting grounds. One cannot oppose the great tides ofCook Inlet, and all plans are based on them. Therefore we did not leaveuntil the flood, when we were carried up the stream some twelvemiles--the tide limit--where we camped.

The next morning we were up at daylight, for at this point began thehard river work. There was much brush on the banks, but our nativesproved themselves most expert in passing the line, for from now on untilwe reached the lake our boats had to be towed against a swift current.

That day we made about eight miles, and camped shortly after fiveo'clock. It rained hard during the night, and the next morning brokecloudy. The river for the first two days wound through the lowlands, butfrom this point on the banks seemed higher and the current perceptiblyswifter, while breaking water showed the presence of rocks under thesurface. The country back from the stream began to be more rolling, andas the river occasionally made some bold bend the Kenai Mountains couldbe seen in the distance.

Again it rained hard during the night and continued well on into thenext morning, so we made a late start, breaking camp at eight o'clock.Spruce, alders, willows, and birch were the trees growing along thebanks, and we now passed through the country where the moose rangeduring the summer months. Already the days had become perceptiblyshorter, and there was also a feeling of fall in the air, for summer isnot long in this latitude.

At this point in the river we encountered bad water, and all hands wereconstantly wet, while the natives were in the glacial stream up to theirwaists for hours at a time. Therefore we made but little progress. Thatnight there was a heavy frost, and the next morning dawned bright andclear. The day was a repetition of the day before, and the natives wereagain obliged to wade with the tow-line most of the way. But they were agood-natured lot, and seemed to take their wetting as a matter ofcourse. About ten o'clock the next morning we reached the Kenai Rapids,where the stream narrows and the water is extremely bad, for the currentis very swift and the channel full of rocks. We navigated this placesafely and came out into the smooth water beyond. Here we had tea and agood rest, for we felt that the hardest part of this tiresome journeywas over. Above the rapids there are a few short stretches of lesstroubled water where the oars can be used; but these are few and farbetween, and one must count upon warping the boat from tide water towithin two miles of the lake--an estimated distance of betweenthirty-five and forty miles.

We had hardly got started the following day before it began to rainheavily. We were soon wet to the skin and thoroughly chilled, but wekept on until late in the afternoon, when we camped in a small Indiancabin some three miles from the lake.

It stormed hard during the night with such heavy wind that we muchfeared that we should be unable to cross the lake the next day. In themorning, however, the wind had gone down, and we made an earlystart. Just before reaching the mouth of the river we sighted game forthe first time. A cow moose with her calf were seen on the bank. Theystood idly watching our boats for a short time, and then slowly ambledoff into the brush.

Occasionally as the river had made some big bend we had been able tosight the mountains which were to be our shooting grounds. Day by daythey had grown nearer and nearer, and finally, after one week of thistoilsome travel, we glided from the river to the crescent-shaped lake,and they now rose close before us.

This range of hills with their rough and broken sides compares favorablyin grandeur with the finest of Alaskan scenery. Half way up their slopeswas a well defined timber line, and then came the stunted vegetationwhich the autumn frosts had softened into velvet browns in deep contrastto the occasional berry patches now tinged a brilliant crimson; andbeyond, the great bleak, open tablelands of thick moss sloped gentlyupward to the mountain bases; and above all, the lofty peaks of dullgray rock towered in graceful curves until lost in the mist. Great banksof snow lay in many of the highest passes, and over all the landscapethe sun shone faintly through leaden and sombre storm clouds.

Such was my first near view of the Kenai Mountains, and, as I learned toknow them better, they seemed to grow more awe-inspiring and beautiful.

When we reached Kenai Lake, Blake and I decided that it would probablybe the wisest plan to divide things up into two separate shootingoutfits. We could then push over the hills in different directionsuntil we came upon the sheep. Each would then make his own shootingcamp, and our natives would carry out the heads we might shoot to ourunited base of supplies on the lake, and pack back needed provisions.

At noon of August 22 Blake and outfit started for his shooting groundsat the eastern end of the sheep range, and shortly after my outfit wasunder way. My head man and the natives carried packs of some sixtypounds, while I carried about fifty pounds besides my rifle, glasses,and cartridges; even my dog Stereke had some thirty pounds of cannedgoods in a pack saddle.

Our first march led up the mountain over a fairly steep trail, a galeaccompanied by rain meeting us as we came out from the timber on to thehigh mossy plateau. The wind swept down from the hills in great gusts,and our small tent tugged and pulled at its stakes until I greatlyfeared it would not stand the strain. It had moderated somewhat by thenext morning, and we made an early start.

Our line of march, well above timber, led along the base of the summitsfor some miles, then swinging to the left we laboriously climbed overone range and dropped into the valley beyond. A strong wind made it hardgoing, and sometimes turned us completely around as it struck slantingupon the packs which we carried. During the day sheep were seen in thedistance, but we did not stop, for we were anxious to reach before darka place where Hunter--my head man--had usually made his hill camp. Itmust be remembered that at such an altitude there is very little fuel,and that good camping places are few and far between.

The next morning we were up early, intending to take our first hunt, butthe small Killy River, on which we were now located, was much swollen bythe heavy rains, and could not be crossed. We devoted the forenoon tobridging this stream, but during the afternoon a small bunch of sheepwas sighted low down on the mountains, and I started with Hunter to seeif it contained any good rams. We left camp about noon and reached thesheep in a little over an hour. There was one ram which I shot formeat, but unfortunately his head was smaller than I thought, andvalueless as a trophy.

As sheep hunting in these hills is at best hard work, I decided to movethe camp as high up as we could find wood and water. The next morning aswe started on our first real hunt, we took the native with us, and afterselecting a spot at the edge of the timber line, left him to bring upour camp to this place while my man and I continued over the mountainsin search of rams. The day was dull and the wind was fortunately light.

After a stiff climb we came out upon a mossy tableland, intersected byseveral deep gulches, down which tumbled rapid glacial streams from manyperpetual snow banks. Above this high plateau rose sharp and barrenmountains which seemed but glacial heaps of jagged boulders and sliderock all covered with coarse black moss or lichen, which is the onlyfood of sheep during the winter months.

It is generally supposed that when the heavy snows of winter set in thesheep seek a lower level, but my guide insisted that they work higherand higher up the mountain sides, where the winds have swept the snowaway, and they are able to get this coarse but nourishing food.

The sky-line of these hills made a series of unbroken curves telling ofthe mighty power of the glaciers which once held this entire country intheir crushing grasp.

We passed over the great plateau, which even at this latitude wassprinkled generously with beautiful small wild flowers. Crossing gulchafter gulch we continually worked higher and higher by a gradual andeasy ascent.

We had been gone from camp but little over an hour, when, on approachinga small knoll, I caught sight of the white coat of a sheep just beyond.At once dropping upon my hands and knees I crawled up and carefullypeered over to the other side. We had unknowingly worked into the midstof a big band of ewes, lambs, and small rams. I counted twenty-seven onmy left and twenty-five on my right, but among them all there was not ahead worth shooting.

This was the first great band of white sheep I had seen, and I watchedthem at this close range with much interest. Soon a tell-tale eddy inthe breeze gave them our scent, and they slowly moved away, nothurriedly nor in great alarm, but reminding me much of tame sheep, ordeer in a park. Man was rather an unfamiliar animal to them, and hisscent brought but little dread. From this time until darkness hid them,sheep were in plain view the entire day. In a short while I counted overone hundred ewes and lambs.

We worked over one range and around another with the great valley of theriver lying at our feet, while beyond were chain upon chain of bleak andrugged mountains. Finally we came to a vast gulch supposed to be thehome of the large rams. My men had hunted in this section two yearsbefore, and had never failed to find good heads here, but we now sawnothing worth stalking. By degrees we worked to the top of the gulch,and coming to the summit of the ridge paused, for at our feet was whatat first appeared but a perpendicular precipice of jagged rock fallinghundreds of feet. The clouds now lifted a bit and we could see below avast circular valley with green grass and rapid glacial streams. On allsides it was hemmed in and guarded by mighty mountains with giant cliffsand vast slides of broken rocks reaching from the bottom to the verysummits. Opposite was a great dull blue glacier from which the northfork of the Killy River belched forth, while other smaller glaciers andsnow banks seemed kept in place only by granite barriers.

We seated ourselves on the brink of this great cliff and the glasseswere at once in use. Soon Hunter saw rams, but they were so far belowthat even with my powerful binoculars it was impossible to tell morethan that they carried larger heads than other sheep near them.

It was impossible to descend the cliff at the point where we then were,so we moved around, looking for a place where we might work down, andfinally found one where it was possible to descend some fifty yards to asort of shute. From where we were we could not see whether we should beable to make a still further descent, and if we did go down that far itwould be an extremely difficult climb to get back, but we thought itprobable that there would be slide rock at the other end of this shute,in which case the rest would be fairly easy.

Moving with the greatest caution, we finally reached the shute, andafter a bit of bad climbing found the slide rock at the lower end as wehad expected; but it took us a good two hours to get low enough to tellwith the glasses how big were the horns the sheep carried.

There were eight rams in all. A bunch of three small ones about half amile away, and just beyond them four with better heads, but still notgood enough to shoot, and apart from these, a short distance up themountain side, was a solitary ram which carried a really good head. Thebunch of three was unfortunately between us and the big sheep, and itrequired careful stalking to get within distance of the one wesought. We knew very well that if we suddenly alarmed the three, andthey rushed off, they, in turn, would alarm the four and also the bigram. When we were still at some distance we showed ourselves to thethree, and they took the hint and wandered slowly up the mountainside. The others, although they had not seen us, became suspicious, sowe remained crouched behind some rocks until they once more began tofeed. The big ram now came down from his solitary position and passedfrom view behind a mass of boulders near the remaining sheep.

The head of the ram which I had shot the day before was much smallerthan I had supposed at the time. In order to avoid this in future I hadasked Hunter to advise me in selecting only really good heads. My man,who now had the glasses, declared that the big sheep had not joined thebunch of four, and I must confess that I was also deceived.

Although the four had become suspicious from seeing the three go slowlyup the cliff, still they had not made us out, and the wind remainedfavorable. Lying close only long enough for them to get over theiruneasiness, we cautiously stalked up to within some two hundredyards. Again we used the glasses most carefully, but could not see thebig ram. Suddenly the sheep became alarmed and started up themountain. I expected each second to see the large ram come out frombehind the boulders, and therefore withheld from shooting. But when hedid not appear I turned my attention to the four which had paused andwere looking down upon us from a rocky ridge nearly four hundred yardsabove. As they stood in bold relief against the black crags, I saw thatone carried horns much larger than the others, and that it was the big